Michelle Ward- "If you Were Coming in The Fall" Emily Dickenson

If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,

I'd wind the months in balls,

And put them each in separate drawers,

Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed,

I'd count them on my hand,

Subtracting till my fingers dropped 
Into Van Diemens land.
If certain, when this life was out,

That yours and mine should be,

I'd toss it yonder like a rind,

And taste eternity.
But now, all ignorant of the length

Of time's uncertain wing,

It goads me, like the goblin bee,

That will not state its sting.

Emily Dickenson’s Poem, “If you were coming in the fall” is one of my favorite pieces of her poetry. Every time I read this poem, it is as if I can visual all the elements of time that are missed by being apart from someone you love. Desperation to be reunited with them, whether it is in this lifetime, or in the eternity you are to share drives longing. Dickenson’s use of certainty and uncertainty, knowing and not knowing all make up the emotion of love. Love is something that drives us to do things we never imagined, to think things that we never imagined, to feel things we never thought were possible. If one could experience the love they share with something for an eternity, tossing this life, as we know it, aside would occur like the rind of a fruit. My favorite aspect of this poem is the use of language to describe the elements of time. When Dickenson describes the months as balls to be wound like yarn, keeping them in separate drawers just incase the shall fuse together, I can relate to the exact emotion that drives that narrative. Time spent with a loved one goes by too quickly. Sometimes you can remember a few deep moments shared between the two of you, but never every experience, every encounter and every loving, waking second. If we could keep memories in separate drawers, to return to in times of solace, what would our lives be like? Would it be as if we aren’t really experiencing love but attempting to relive it with an imitation? Or, would it be a heightened sense of love and relations? I know that I would love to be able to relive moments of my live that I simply recall through photos.